Hannah's Story
by Secret Vesper
Summary: Hannah Ziting Oakes was born into the FLDS, Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints. Life was never 'easy' and after 18 years, she has finally told her story. *content is all mine, please read and review


I think childhood was my favorite time.

I know, so many people say that, but I really mean it. Despite all the horrible things about it, my childhood, especially when I was little, was one of the best times in my life.

Perhaps I should explain a little better. My name is Hannah Zitting Oakes. I am 18 years old and for the past 18 years, I was a member of the FLDS: The Fundamentalist Church of Jesus Christ of the Latter Day Saints.

I was the eighth child born to my mother, but the 28 out of 33 to my entire family. In my family, there was my birth mother, Ruth, and my father, Aaron, then my two other mothers, Mother Beth and Mother Joann. My mother was my father's third wife and it is nothing to say that things did not go over well when she joined the family.

Father and Mother Beth had been married first and when Mother Beth had five children, Mother Joann was married into the family. From what I understand, Mother Beth and Father were very excited, especially Mother Beth, who was looking forward to getting help around the house. However, things did not go as planned when Mother Beth and Mother Joann began fighting over Father. They argued about everything, from who got to spend time with him when and who did the most work. They also argued over who got to sleep with him and when the other was being a bad mother.

Father had been married to Mother Joann for 10 years when my mother, Ruth, was married to him. Mother says that her two sister wives constantly tried to get her in on the arguing, hoping that she would side with them and that they would prove to Father that they were right. Unfortunately, mother did not want to take sides. She was nearly 20 years younger than Father was and it was her young, good looks that quickly made her father's favorite, especially since she never seemed to argue with the others, just ignore them.

Mother had it lucky until I was 3 years old. That is when Mother Joann and Mother Beth realized that the way to get to my mother was through her children. They would often complain to Father that we misbehaved. I remember once I was beat by Mother Beth because we had been woken up early for prayers when I was three and I cried, still tired, and did not want to get up. Mother Beth pulled me out before all of the other children and wives, paddling me severely. Mother complained to father that Mother Beth had been too harsh on me since I was so young, but Father sided with Mother Beth and said that she was just trying to discipline me. I could not sit down for two days after the beating.

That is when things all went south for us. Mother started to get into fights with the other sister wives and each time mother fought back, we children were punished. I remember when I was five, my sister Jenny was locked in a closet for half the day without food or being allowed out to go to the bathroom. She ended up getting a bladder infection, which did not end well. In the FLDS, we believe sickness and health problems come from not obeying God. Therefore, Jenny's infection was just what they blamed as her not being obedient to our other Mothers. This ended up with Jenny being punished by being locked in her room again, only worsening the infection. This continued until Mother took Jenny to the clinic because she was so sick. She stayed there for three days and Mother never left her side. This gave Mother Beth and Mother Joann three whole days to do with us as they pleased.

Despite all this bad, there was some good. Growing up in a large family is a lot of fun, when we all get along. Being one of the youngest, I was often being taken care of, not taking care of others, so I was free to do what I wanted. The most common game for us was 'Apocalypse.' Yes, I realize this is a weird game for children, but for us, it was not. Most of the time, the older kids in our family would play the more serious parts: trying to tempt us from following God's path. We would run through the yard of our home and hide from the older siblings who would try to find and steal us. We would find a place to fortify and fight against the tempters. After a long and dangerous battle, we would always emerge victorious. After our victory, we would celebrate. This was one of my favorite parts of my childhood. It was one of the few times where we were allowed to run and play and shout and not worry about 'keeping sweet' because our game was to glorify God.

I started school when I was 5 years old, like most children, to the school that Uncle Warren had put together. Classes were separated between boys and girls. I was taught how to read and write and simple math. We were also in religion classes, to learn about our church and religion in more depth. As a girl, I was in some of the womanly arts classes, such as home economics. We were taught next to no science and only history that Uncle Warren deemed suitable and uncorrupt from the outside world. I liked history and to read, but there wasn't much to learn or read since most Uncle Warren said was tainted with the sin of those not in our religion and refused to give us access to it. So instead, I read what I could get my hands on. My favorite story was the one about Brigham Young and bringing the Mormon Church out west so we could have religious freedom.

However, school was not always fun. We were subjected to corporal punishment if we did not do things correctly or talked back. There were also the raids. Although I was never subject to any raids in school, we always heard about them. There were fake walls that hide small rooms that were rumored to be where children would hide if there was a raid. We were constantly on guard for one of these 'raids' to happen. Once, some friends of mine and I snuck into one of the rooms and saw names carved into the wood, as if someone had been there for some time. We have no idea if that was actually for a raid or if some other kids just snuck in as we did.

When I was 9 years old, Father delivered us some news. My two older brothers from my mother, Charles and Abraham were being dismissed from the FLDS. This did not come as much of a surprise. Charles and Abraham were constantly nosing around and trying to learn more. They questioned the doctrines of the church and were not quite about such things. The two had known they were playing with matches and now the fire had caught. Uncle Warren heard about them and started asking around about them. This was a huge blow to my mother, who had always come from a well-respected FLDS family and this was a reflection on her poor skills as a mother.

I remember the day that Charles and Abraham left well. Mother got some of us up at four in the morning. She had agreed that any of us who wanted to say goodbye could come with her. Most scoffed at the idea, they did not want to be associated with two who had been kicked out. However, Charles and Abraham had always looked out for me, making sure that I was not picked on too much since I was quiet and a 'goody two shoes,' as some would call me. Nine of my other siblings came with us as mother drove out to the interstate. Once there, we got out and bid my two brother's goodbye. We would not hear from them again since they were excommunicated from the FLDS and all in it now. Mother had packed the boys each some food and made them promise to take care of each other. Then she hugged them and ushered us all back into the car. She turned the car around and started back home with her two oldest sons standing on the highway with cardboard signs to get to Salt Lake City.

Other brothers of mine left, either from their own choice or by being kicked out. This did not bode well for our family. Uncle Warren had his eye on Father as he attempted to reign in the family. Unfortunately, my Mother's continued to fight amongst themselves. The arguments in the house soon started to creep out to the community when Mother Joann came out one day with a black eye from Mother Beth. It was common for children to be severely punished by parents, but women, especially sister wives were not to come to blows as they had. This is what finally ended up tearing my family apart. When I was 11 years old, my father came to us all with announcements. He had been dismissed from the FLDS since he could not control his family. He was given a chance to repent from afar, but his wives and children would be relocated. Our family would never be the same.

The day after Father's announcement, he left. I am not exactly sure where he went, because we were not allowed to communicate with him. Two days after he left, Uncle Warren came and explained what would happen to all of us. My mother and her children would be going to a ranch to live until Mother was remarried since she could not live without a husband. Mother immediately became helpful to the family we lived with, hoping that they would tell Uncle Warren that she was a good worker, sweet and a wonderful mother so she would be remarried soon. You see, in the FLDS, the only way a woman can get to Heaven is through her husband. Therefore, if Mother did not remarry, we were screwed.

For the most part, I liked the ranch. We were not able to go to the school that Uncle Warren put together, so we were homeschooled by one of the Mother's there. She had been around when women were still allowed to go to college and had a degree in education. I learned a lot from her. We often grew all of our food and stored it, having a full working ranch and farm. There was a lot of room and many kids to run around with and play together. In the winter, we would make hot cocoa and cookies together.

This was also a bad time. We did not live in an all FLDS community anymore and the police were not part of the FLDS either. This mean that there were raids on the ranch when police would come looking for lots of wives and children to take us away. We would often have just a few minutes to hide when police or government men were seen coming up the long drive. If we were outside, we would run into the woods and sometimes wait for hours, no matter what the weather. Other times, we were able to hide behind the walls in the house, if we were very quiet.

The first raid was shortly after we first arrived, so my siblings and I did not know exactly what to do. Most of the kids ran into the woods, but I was around the front and did not make it in time. Instead, I rounded the house and ran straight into the car where the government people were getting out. I was scared to death, having always been told that the police and government were evil people and only wanted to take us to Hell. I scrambled back as I ran into a very tall black man, he was the first black man I had ever seen. He seemed to realize that he had scared me and backed off as woman stepped forward. She smiled at me and asked my name, which I stuttered out, fighting between my upbringing to be polite or to be scared and run. She told me her name was Carol and said they had come to talk to the man in the house. She asked if he was my father, which I told her no, he was my uncle, what we called all older men. She smiled at me again and led me up to the house, greeting the mother who opened the door by name and let me go in first. She laughed kindly, saying that she was afraid her partner had startled me since he is so tall and imposing. The mother laughed it off and sent me to go help one of the other girl's my age who had stayed out to help cook dinner. The government people stayed for a while to look around, they were always polite and kind. The big man came into the kitchen and even asked what we were cooking. I had never seen a man come into the kitchen before!

That was when I started questioning things. Being only eleven years old, I did not realize that I should keep my questions to myself. Instead, I asked all the adults that I knew why we did the things we did. Why were the people not in the FLDS bad? Was it just because they were not our religion? Or was there something else? Why did we wear prairie dresses when others did not? The government lady, who I saw come many more times, always wore pants, why didn't we wear pants? What if we were wrong? What if our beliefs and religion was wrong? How do we know that we were right? You say that the evangelists that Mother says used to come on television are crazy, and then why are not our prophets crazy? Aren't they all claiming to be hearing things from God and Jesus? Questioning the FLDS does not lead to good things. I was often punished for my questioning and finally, they had enough of it.

When I was thirteen years old, Mother and I were called to Uncle Warren's home. It looked just like it had the year before when we came to see Mother marrying my new Father, the man who owned the ranch we had gone to, Joseph Martin. We did not have to wait long before we were allowed into Uncle Warren's office. Father Joseph was already there, having said he would meet us on his way from work. We were sat down across from Uncle Warren who said he had happy news for our family. He had been given a revelation from God and I was to be married. There was a man, Cornelius Oakes, whose wife had passed away the year before. He had been left behind with eight children that he was raising with the help of his oldest daughter and mother. It was time he have a wife and God had told Uncle Warren that I was to be that wife.

To say I was shocked is an understatement. I was to be married? But, I was only thirteen. I had only been having my monthlies for a few months. Surely, I was too young? Mother raised the same questions as I had in my mind. She even brought up to the Prophet that I had seemed kind of confused since Father had been excommunicated and that she thought this might upset me even more. Uncle Warren simply said that being a wife and mother would help me settle into my roles and I would soon realize my call. Father Joseph was thrilled; it had been some time since one of his children had been married. Without another word, we were dismissed. We would come back the next day for my wedding.

We stayed in a hotel that night. Father Joseph had called back home to tell the others the good news and promised to take pictures for them to see. Father Joseph's first wife, Ester, promised to make sure my wedding trunk was put together and ready for us to get when we returned home. Father Joseph chatted away happily to Mother and me as we went back to the hotel. We had gotten a room with a pull out sofa for me, and there was a door between the 'living space' and the bedroom. After a while, Mother and Father Joseph went to bed. I curled up in the bed I was given and cried the night away.

The next morning, we were up early. We went to Uncle Warren's house where he gave Mother and I a room to get ready. Some of Uncle Warren's wives and daughters came to help me get ready. They all were encouraging and very happy that I was getting married off. I was stunned and in shock through the entire thing, unable to really react to the things around me. After I was dressed in a simple white dress that a wife the same size as I let me use, I was left alone for a few moments.

That is when I started to cry. I could not believe it. I was getting married and I was only thirteen. One of Uncle Warren's wives told me that Cornelius Oakes was forty-three years old. The man I was to marry was thirty years older than I was. He was old enough to be my father. Not that this was unusual, my mother had been twenty years younger than Father. There had been eighteen-year-old girls who had married Uncle Rulon when he was in his eighties. Nevertheless, no matter what I thought about it, I was to be married that day.

Mother came to me a few minutes before to get me. She noticed I had been crying before she gave me a hug. She wiped my tears away, admitting that she had cried when she first got married. She promised it would be good in the end. I would have a good husband and my way into Heaven when we died. I was taken care of for life and in death. I gave my mother a small smile before she led me downstairs to my wedding, the event that would change my life.

We went downstairs to the parlor that had been set aside for us. Some of the girls had picked some flowers to set around and gave me a small bouquet. I knew that my eyes were still red from my crying and I was fighting desperately to hold back more tears as I saw a tall blonde man standing next to Uncle Warren. I recognized him from seeing him around my hometown when I was younger. I had never expected to marry him. I had always hoped I would marry a man near my age, who was nice and caring and would treat me well. But that wasn't going to happen. Instead I was marrying a man who was thirty years my senior. I just couldn't get over it.

The wedding was fast and simple. We did not marry in churches or in ways that were recognized by the US government because most of us were so young, and polygamy is illegal. Uncle Warren said a few simple things about what our duties were to each other as husband and wife. We exchanged rings and the man gave me a peck on the cheek and we were married. He was my partner for life and beyond.

After the wedding was over, my new husband took Mother, Father Joseph and I out for dinner. We ate at a small restaurant, just the four of us. Mother and I were mostly silent as Father Joseph and Cornelius talked about business. The dinner ended much too fast in my tastes. When Mother and Father Joseph got up, I moved to go with them. Cornelius stood with me, shaking Father Joseph's hand and nodding to my mother and promised that we would see them soon. Then my parents left, leaving me with my husband.

Cornelius drove us back to the hotel where he had rented us a room for the night. I thought that I was going to spend the night with my parents, but Cornelius led me to his room, where my bag had been placed on the bed. Cornelius locked us in for the night as I sat quietly on the edge of the bed, my bag sitting in my lap. I hoped that he would ignore me, and my wish was granted. He went into the bathroom and I quickly pulled my dress off. I left my long undergarments on, pulling my nightgown over them as another layer of protection. I quickly crawled into the bed and closed my eyes, hoping that Cornelius would think I was asleep when he came out of the bathroom.

Let me make this straight. We are not told anything about sexual intercourse or where babies come from. I asked my mother once, and she said my husband would tell me. I asked my sisters who had gotten married before me and they told me the same thing. So I had no idea what Cornelius would try to do when he got into the bed while I pretended to sleep. He crawled over to me, feeding his hands up my nightgown. I jerked back, unable to pretend to be asleep when there was a man touching me places I had always head sacred.

I was scared. I was shaking as Cornelius pulled my nightgown up and removed my undergarments. He was not gentle, but I was still mostly dressed by the time he was done. I was silent, my body screaming for me to run, but too scared to. He was rough with me: forcing his lips on mine and bruising my hips as he went. I just prayed to myself that it would be over soon.

Thankfully, it did not last too long. When he was done, he rolled off me and went to sleep. I pulled my garments closer to me, wanting those layers of protection he had taken from me back. I felt vile and used. I felt like something was not right, that I had done something wrong. But what was I to say? I was his wife, surely he could do what he wanted to me… but did that include this… act. I tried to sleep, but my fear and insecurity kept me up through most of the night. I did doze off a few times, only to wake when Cornelius moved even the smallest amount.

I must have finally fallen asleep, because the next morning I woke to Cornelius in the shower. I waited patiently, getting everything out so I could change in the bathroom and he would not have to see me while I got ready for the day. Cornelius emerged in his undergarments and pants to let me in and I quickly locked the door. I took the longest, hottest shower that I could manage before getting out and dressing for the day. I pulled my hair into the usual old-fashioned style that we wore and tried to calm myself before I stepped out of the safety of the bathroom.

Cornelius had brought breakfast up for us, but barely looked at me when I sat at the small table across from him. He only informed me that we would be leaving when we were done to go back home. I would be introduced to his children and then he had to go to back to work. I nodded, grateful that he would be gone, but also fearful of the mysterious children I would have to mother. The rest of breakfast was silent and the ride home was even quieter. I was glad to have my Bible to read or else the silence would have been unbearable.

When we finally arrived back to Cornelius' home… now my home, I could barely believe it. We were in the same city I had grown up in, so at least some of my siblings were close by. Along with many of my old friends from the school I used to attend. The house was set up in a similar fashion to the one I had grown up in, so I was familiar with the layout. Cornelius informed me that he had eight children from his first marriage, but most were at school. The three youngest were at their grandmother's while he attended our wedding. He would call his mother and pick them on his way home from checking on a project that he was overseeing. The other five children would be home from school at four in the afternoon, dinner was to be served at six and bed for the children was nine. I made mental notes of everything. He pointed the kitchen out to me and the laundry room. I would be responsible for all the laundry for the time being and I would also be responsible for making sure the house was clean. He suggested I start in the front room.

Then he left.

I was now left alone in a strange house, with a strange man and soon to be strange children, who I knew nothing about. I was married and now not only a wife, but a mother. So I did what any girl in my position would most likely do.

I sat on the couch and cried.

I got up at noon to make a small lunch and then got to work. I cleaned and scrubbed, hoping it would take my mind off everything. When the public spaces were spotless, I headed for the kitchen. After searching the cupboards, I found enough ingredients to make something nice for us all… I hoped.

At three o'clock, Cornelius came home with the three little ones: Jessica, Zachary and Leeann. Leeann was the youngest, barely over a year old. Cornelius' first wife must have died shortly after she was born. Zachary was two years old and Jessica was four. Cornelius handed Leeann to me before heading into his home office, after making sure I knew how to handle children. I watched the three, silently enjoying seeing them playing with each other. All three were a little wary of me, but as long as I left them be, they did not seem to mind staying in the same room as I.

At four o'clock, the door opened, just as Cornelius said and five children came in, three girls and two boys. Cornelius called them all into the front room to explain to them that they had a new mother. I stayed in the back of the room, in the doorway of the kitchen. Cornelius then brought me forward, introducing me to his children. There was Abraham, who was six, Darla, seven, the twins, Ezekiel and Elizabeth, nine, and the oldest at twelve, Sarah.

Of course, there were many remarks about me and how young I was. The loudest and most noticeable was from Sarah, who had only been a year under me in school and we already knew each other. She was one of what people would call, the popular girls. She and a group of other things were the ones who were perfect. All of the men in the church liked them and they could do no wrong. Having a new 'daughter' who fell into this category and was only a year younger than me was going to be a challenge.

After the introductions were done, Cornelius dismissed everyone. The children went upstairs to do their homework, Cornelius disappeared into his office and I went back to the kitchen to cook. That night, I served the best meal at I could for all of them, hoping to make a good impression on the people I'd be spending the rest of my life with. Dinner went on without a hitch and I went to wash up when everyone was done. Of course, I could hear everything that was going on in the house. The three youngest were in their playpen, the boys were outside and the girls were supposed to be doing their homework.

That's when I heard it. Footsteps came downstairs and I spotted Sarah disappear into Cornelius' office. The office door closed and there were soon an attitude laced voice. Voices began to raise before they suddenly quieted down. I was just finishing cleaning the kitchen when Cornelius escorted Sarah out of his office. I remember him telling her that he was looking to her to show me the ropes of the house. That she would have to teach me the rules and the norms since it had been some time that I had lived in the city. I could almost hear the smirk in Sarah's voice as she promised to 'help' me.

Life was not always good with Cornelius and the Oakes family. While I was mostly treated kindly there were some definite problems. Most of these problems started with Sarah. I was constantly being reported to Cornelius when I didn't do something the 'right way.' This could be anything from tidying up the house and putting an article of clothing in the wrong drawer, doing the laundry on the wrong day, accidentally leaving my hairbrush on the counter when I went to feed one of the little ones or not preparing food in the 'right' order. Because of these things, I would often get reprimanded in front of the children.

While at first, I only had troubles with Sarah, after seeing the trouble she got me into, the other's caught on. Soon the twins were tattling on me and even seven year old Darla, who had originally started to get along with me. I tried to speak to Cornelius about this, but he always took their side. When I told him that it was causing serious issues with their respect towards me, he ignored me. I had always been soft spoken, so after the first few times he ignored me, I soon stopped talking to him about the problems and tried to fix them myself. I told the children that if there was ever a problem, to let me know and I would fix it. I tried to explain to them that I wasn't sure how they normally did things here, so I was getting used to new things and if they helped me everything would be better.

This appeared to work at first. Darla and the twins would come and tell me when I did something they weren't used to, or if I forgot something instead of going straight to their father. This helped me a lot as I learned the ropes and I often thanked them for telling me, so they knew I appreciated this change. But Sarah refused to tell me and only started running to her father even more often. The tattling was escalating and started putting me into a nervous wreck as I tried to remember and execute everything I was told in a manner that wouldn't get me into trouble. This just made it worse with more for Sarah to report me to her father about and more of a wreck when I was continually scolded before his children.

To add fuel to the fire, Cornelius was growing frustrated with me as I tried my hardest to get away from his sexual advances. I would do anything, feigning tiredness or claiming there was more I had to get done and come to bed after I knew he would have fallen asleep. I loved getting my monthly, it being a great excuse to keep away from him. Cornelius confronted me many times, demanding sex as was his right and my duty. But I kept playing my game of keep away, hoping that eventually he'd stop.

But things didn't stop, they only got worse. At my first birthday with the Oakes I was given an encouragement box with a small baby in it. The pressure had started for me to start having children. I couldn't fight Cornelius anymore since he had started to become abusive and I slowly slipped into a quiet and obedient role. While I hated everything that was going on around me, I kept those thoughts and feelings locked away so no one would find them.

Things slowly started getting better. I didn't care about what Sarah told her father anymore and I wasn't hurt as much from Cornelius because I was complying with his wishes for sex. It wasn't any big surprise that a few months later, when I was only 14 years old, I found out I was pregnant. My mother was thrilled and so was Cornelius, at least, he was for a short while.

My pregnancy wasn't easy. Many people said it was a punishment because I hadn't kept sweet. I was sick morning, noon and night. I was tired and often became dizzy. Many of the other women who lived near us would often condemn me since I couldn't do much with how sick I was. Cornelius got frustrated since I was too sick for sex, even though it is against our ideals to have sex while you are pregnant. When I brought it up, he said that it was only a recommendation and things would be fine.

I was just entering my third month of my pregnancy when I had my miscarriage. I had been slowly feeling better and was gaining a little weight with a small bump forming at my stomach. While I hated that Cornelius was the father and the act that had resulted in it, I loved the child. I was amazed that there was a tiny human growing inside of me and I did my best to take care of myself for the child. After my miscarriage, I was devastated. When I first felt the pain, I thought it was just cramps. The nurse had told me it was normal to have pain at this time in my pregnancy since bones and organs were being moved around. The longer the day was, the worse the cramps got. I told Cornelius I wasn't feeling well and went to bed early that night, leaving something for the family to heat up and eat in the fridge. He was upset with me, but let me go.

I woke up in the middle of the night in excruciating pain. I could feel something warm and moist around my legs and hips and immediately started to wake Cornelius. He turned on the light when he finally woke and the two of us saw a pool of blood around my legs in the bed. Cornelius hurried off to call the hospital while I laid there, my body wracked in pain every few minutes. I don't remember much of the rest of the night. I know an ambulance eventually got there and they loaded me into the back. I was taken to the hospital and poked with a series of needles. Eventually, I blacked out.

I woke late the next day. My mother was in my room, but no one else was. She was the one who told me I had a miscarriage. She stayed with me throughout the day as I slowly accepted that there was no child inside of me anymore, that my child had died before it could even be born. Cornelius stopped by that evening on his way home from work and told me they were going to let me go tomorrow and he'd pick me up at nine before he went to work. Then he left. He didn't say anything to comfort me or console me.

He just left.

I went home the next day, just as Cornelius had said. But unlike what Cornelius had planned for, I was under strict instructions to stay in bed for the next two days and take it easy for at least another week. Cornelius didn't like this, but relented when my mother got permission from Father Joseph to stay with us until I was able to be up and about on my own. I stayed close to my mother while she was there, eventually unloading my fears on her. While my mother was not a perfect one, she did know when to listen and when to say something positive or something realistic when you needed it. She told me that it was hard when she was first married to my father because she was so much younger than the other wives and there were children her age or older who constantly fought for dominance. But the best thing to do was to please my husband and soon the children would realize that I was not going anywhere and they must come to respect me at least a little.

I took my mother's advice to heart and after I was well again, I went right back to work, hoping to please Cornelius. But there was one thing my mother had not taken into account when she gave me her advice and that is when she was married to my father, she was a 17 year old beauty. I had seen pictures of my mother when she and father first got married. Mother was a beauty with a fair complexion, kind eyes and long hair. She also had a beautiful figure that had just filled in because of her age. It is my belief that her beauty was what made it so much easier to win my father over, who was getting a little older and so were his two previous wives.

Despite how much I tried, I could not win Cornelius over to my side. I cleaned more thoroughly, I helped the children with their school work where I could, cooked better meals even though it was getting harder since Cornelius had cut my grocery bill down a little. I did my best to please him, but nothing seemed to work. Sarah was still telling her father stories and Elizabeth had started back up again. Now that I wasn't ill, there was no mercy on me.

One of the positive things in my life was my little brother, Obadiah. Obadiah was born when I was eight years old and was probably one of my closer siblings. Both of us had similar passive personalities. Obadiah was sweet and caring and it wasn't uncommon to see him following me through the house when he was little. When I got married, I was worried I would lose my close relationship with my little brother. But luckily it was barely changed. Obadiah was still in the city with his mother and family. Mother Beth had been married to a man in town, shortly before Cornelius and I married. This was perfect since it allowed Obadiah and me to still see each other. There was a small joke between my family and theirs. If Obadiah wasn't at school or at home, you could almost always find him at the Oakes residence.

When I was fifteen, I got a call during the day from Mother Beth. There had been an accident while the children were out at her husband's ranch. The children were out in the truck driving through the fields. Mother Beth told me they had been driving a little too fast and hit a dip. It caused the truck to flip over. Some of the kids had been able to get out before the vehicle flipped completely. Unfortunately, Obadiah hadn't been able to. He had been thrown under the truck bed and was dead by the time they had been able to get to him.

I couldn't believe it. My little brother was dead and he was only seven years old. My world seemed to stop. I had to sit down after I got off the phone with Mother Beth and I didn't move until Cornelius came home. He yelled at me at first before I was able to choke out what had happened. Cornelius knew how close I was to my brother so while he offered little comfort, he did not get upset with me. He had Sarah cook dinner that night and the day after. Honestly, I don't remember much about my time after Obadiah's death. It was all a blur. I do remember one day I got up and made breakfast for everyone. Then, I just left. I walked out of the house and started walking and I kept walking. I walked all day and didn't stop. It wasn't until evening that a truck finally pulled up alongside me. It was Cornelius' truck. He got out and started to yell at me before dragging me back into the truck. I was quiet as he drove home, ranting and raving. When we got home, I was beat. He hit me and yelled at me. I got a fat lip and he bruised my temple. I spent the night curled up in a blanket in the living room, not with Cornelius. The next morning, I got up and made breakfast for everyone, falling numbly back into our routine.

Two things happened when I was sixteen years old. First, I got pregnant again for the second time. This pregnancy lasted a little longer, but ended in miscarriage again. I was hit hard emotionally again, especially that now the community was starting to spread rumors at my lack of being able to have a child. Rumors were flying that I wasn't doing what was asked of me. Along with this, Cornelius showed little sympathy towards me or the pain I was in, both physically and emotionally.

Second, a few months after my miscarriage, Cornelius announced that he would be taking a new wife. The day after, he left for the Prophet's house, leaving me and the children alone. We waited for him to return, but he didn't come until two days later. With him was his new wife, Ira. Ira had four children of her own, Isaac, 8, James, 6 , Judith, 3, and Leah, 1. Ira was 22 years old and was clearly a beauty in our society. She had been married to a man who was kicked out of the FLDS. Ira quickly took over the house and gained the approval of Cornelius and his children faster than I ever could.

Ira was with us for a total of two months before she was pregnant. This secured her place in the family hierarchy and as Cornelius' favorite. Although, I didn't mind so much that he was spending more time and more nights with her. It meant there were less chances for him to force himself upon me and make me feel disgusting. But this also meant that Cornelius listened to her more than I and would always side with her if there was an argument, or if she felt like trying to get me in trouble. This pass time she appeared to pick up from Sarah and the two ganged up on me, forcing me into a slave-type role. Despite her best efforts to turn Cornelius against me, he still slept with me two times a week or so. While I hated sleeping with him, I knew this was necessary for me to keep my humanity in the house. The moment he stopped having sex with me, I would be no more than a slave to the family.

Ira had a daughter, named Mary, and was soon off with Cornelius again, getting almost all of his attention. For the first few months of Mary's life, Ira and Cornelius stayed close to home, but the moment that Ira stopped breastfeeding the girl, the two were off. Cornelius was often away on business and would always take Ira with him, leaving me to handle the now 11 children. I was just one step up from a slave to the family and while the older children, especially Sarah, did not like me, the younger ones would often try to stay in the same room as I, knowing that I would try to protect them from teasing and harassment from their older siblings. I loved the little ones and enjoyed my time with them as they chattered away about the stories they made up while I cleaned and cooked.

During this time that Cornelius tightened the budget I had to run the household. He had made a bad business deal and ended up losing a lot of money in it. Of course, Cornelius and Ira paid little attention to this. Instead of he and Ira coming home instead of spending the night at hotels or eating out at fancy restaurants, my budget was cut. Now please, don't take me as a spoiled brat. My budget went towards feeding and clothing everyone in the house. I had to start mending more hand-me-downs beyond their usability and buying cheaper and less food. Of course, this hit us during the winter, after everything we had planted was harvested. I tried to salvage and pinch the food where I could without making the kids hungry. There were days where the children didn't get a meal and the others were thin soups I put together with what little I had.

We made it through the winter and I tried to get Cornelius to re-think what choices he had made. Instead of recognizing how bad this was, not just for the children, but then entire family, Cornelius blamed me. He accused me of spending the money poorly and threatened to cut the budget even more. I stopped talking to Cornelius about the problems and took to growing a garden to help feed the children. I spent time out there and the younger children found this to be a great game. They loved to watch the little seeds grow into plants and then pick the vegetables that grew from them. I worked to jar the things we grew to preserve them for the winter. This was probably the only way I was able to make it through the next year with those eleven children.

Shortly after Sarah turned fifteen, we were told that she was to be married. For probably the first time in the year that Ira and Cornelius had been married, we worked together. Sarah's wedding dress and trunk was ready for when she got married. She was wed and moved out that day, leaving me with only ten children to care for. Of course, just because Sarah was gone didn't mean that things were going smoother. The older children were still a handful, Cornelius and Ira were still spending money like we were the Royal Family of England and to make matters worse, Ira got pregnant again.

I was seventeen at this time. Cornelius had become even more verbally abusive towards me and the children were almost out of control towards me. Ira was pregnant again, which only made him more abusive. I was trying to stay out of the way so no one would notice me. Of course, this didn't help when I discovered that I was also pregnant. I stayed quiet about my pregnancy to everyone besides the doctor I went to. I explained to her that I was scared to tell Cornelius until I got a few months into the pregnancy, in case I had another miscarriage. The woman, who had her own fair share of miscarriages understood and promised not to tell anyone until I was ready, although she wasn't exactly pleased about it.

But I had no intention to tell Cornelius that I was pregnant. This time, I started salvaging my budget and started to take on a few extra pieces to sew to get some more money. I needed money. There was no way that I was going to bring this child into the Oakes family. This was catalyst to get me out. I had seen the way people used children against mothers and I knew that would happen if and when I had this child. I saved money, started listing things I would need and prayed that things would happen smoothly.

Three months into my pregnancy, I got my chance. Ira and Cornelius had left for a long trip. I waited until the children had gone to bed before quickly and quietly packing the bag. I packed up some food and pulled a jacket on. I got on the bus and went as far as it would take me, under the guise that I was going to visit my mother. Once I got out of Colorado City, I went looking for a bus station to go long distances. I found a station and found a bus that would go as far as I could afford and asked for a ticket. I got on the bus without a problem and sat quietly, hoping no one would pay any attention to me. I rode the bus for two stressful and anxiety filled days before I had to get off.

Now I'm standing in a new world, a new city, with barely any money to my name and hoping things will work out…

Wish me luck.


End file.
